Not a Good Week For Rape Victims

Misc. observations on yet another cold, rainy morning:

1.     It hasn’t been a good week for alleged rape victims. First came the collapse of the UVA/Rolling Stone story. Now comes a retraction from Random House over the star of Lena Dunham’s memoir, Barry the campus conservative and rapist. It seems that there really was a “Barry” at Oberlin back in the day and he was the campus conservative. Trouble is, he has lawyered up and is fighting back by loudly claiming his innocence, so much so that now Ms. Dunham claims that his name wasn’t really Barry. Here’s a little advice for all of you aggrieved feminists out there. There are enough real rapes out there. You don’t need to manufacture fake ones. When you get caught, it damages you and everything you stand for, not to mention legitimate victims.

2.     Over the weekend Pam and I went to see the Grand Illumination downtown with Gordon and Leigh Ann Fort. It was fun. While there we took two pictures, one of Gordon and Leigh Ann and another of the two of us. We would have done a selfie of all four of us, but couldn’t manage the mechanics. Later we posted both photos on Facebook. As of this morning the Dunnevant photo has 15 “likes”. The Fort photo has 75 “likes.” The Dunnevant family self-esteem is at all-time lows as we consider the appalling state of our popularity.

3.     It has been fascinating to watch the evolving tactics of peaceful protesters around the country over the Ferguson and Garner incidents. The latest rage seems to be something called a Die-In, whereby protestors gather at some high profile place and then lay down on the ground as if dead while photographers snap pictures. Interesting. I have never taken part in an organized protest in my entire life. It’s not that I have never been outraged by anything. I get mad as quick as the next guy. It’s just that it all seems so pointless. In a couple more weeks all of these protests will be over and cops and black men will still be enemies. Maybe it does serve the needs of the protestors by giving them a way to demonstrate their frustration which is fine and good. I just can’t imagine being part of a crowd of angry tax-paying businessmen marching on the IRS headquarters on April 15^th. The very idea of laying on the sidewalk with my pockets inside out pretending to be dead-broke seems preposterously silly to me. I mean, it might make me feel better, might even be great fun, but I still owe them the money.

 Lucy is about to lose whatever sanity dogs come with. It has been cloudy, rainy and disgusting outside for what seems like forever, robbing her of her favorite activity…destroying my backyard. She has had only one digging session in the past week and the withdrawal symptoms are starting to become debilitating. Poor girl has taken to sitting at doors and windows and letting out long mournful whines. It’s a dog’s life.

Too Good To Check

What the hell?

Just about the time I have finally simmered down after reading of the horrific rape at UVA, word comes that Rolling Stone no longer has confidence in the story and apologizes to everybody for publishing it in the first place. Their exact words were:

“In the face of new information, there now appear to be discrepancies in Jackie's account, and we have come to the conclusion that our trust in her was misplaced. We were trying to be sensitive to the unfair shame and humiliation many women feel after a sexual assault and now regret the decision to not contact the alleged assaulters to get their account. We are taking this seriously and apologize to anyone who was affected by the story.”

Hmmm, “we apologize to anyone who was affected by the story.” Does that include me? I sure was affected by this story and I’m here to tell you, Rolling Stone, I do not accept your apology. At a time when journalism has become about confirming and advocating agendas, not the honest pursuit of truth, a simple apology isn’t going to cut it. This story was apparently too good to check. This writer set out to write a piece about rape culture and was simply too willing to accept testimony that confirmed her own beliefs and biases. But, that’s what editors are for. That’s what the Perry Whites of the world do. They bark at their reporters for “sources, sources and more sources!!” But even in the make believe world of the Daily Planet, the barking is done BEFORE the story goes to print.

To those out there who ask, “Do you actually think that an accused rapist would agree to be interviewed?” My answer is that if a writer came up to me and said, “Mr. Dunnevant, I’m writing a 9000 word story that’s going to appear in the Rolling Stone about a girl named Jackie who is accusing you and 8 of your buddies of repeatedly raping her at a frat party in 2012,” I would absolutely either A. Tell her that it was a lie or B. contact my attorney and give her a “no comment.” Either way, the reporter has something to write and has made a good faith effort to get the other side of the story, which I understand is Journalism 101.

Instead, not only have many key details of the story collapsed under scrutiny, but the last remains of my confidence in journalism lies in tatters on the floor.

The problem with advocacy journalism disguised as news reporting is that it segregates us into information ghettos. If I lean conservative in my politics, I watch Fox News. If I lean liberal, I watch pretty much everything else. But regardless, I know in my heart that I’m being lied to at some level by all of them. Everyone has an agenda. Every story has an angle. I’m so tired of it all.

I shed no tears for the frats at UVA, but I do shed tears for the truth.

The Rolling Stone and UVA

When I saw that Rolling Stone magazine had written a story about UVA I didn’t know what to think. There was a time when I read Rolling Stone, mostly back when P.J. O’Rourke wrote travel articles for them. But ever since I and Rolling Stone stopped caring about Rock and Roll, I stopped caring about Rolling Stone.

I saw it first on my nephew’s Facebook wall and then discovered that it was everywhere. It was a long and well written piece about a freshman who goes to a frat party, gets gang raped and then literally nothing happens. I won’t repeat all of the article here. I’ll just assume that you’ve read it. But if you haven’t, do yourself a favor and take the time to read the piece…now.

First of all, as someone who has attended a few frat parties back in the day, I should point out that UVA is certainly not unique when it comes to frat-boy debauchery. Although I never witnessed, let alone participated in, anything approaching the happenings at Phi Kappa Psi, there were stories. On one occasion there were photographs. Back then even as a fun-loving, thrill-seeking 20 year old, they were sickening. Today, as a father, I am enraged.

The part of the article that has done the enraging isn’t the actual crime as much as the reaction to the crime by the victims' three “friends.” After finding their friend, who had just been repeatedly raped for over 3 hours by a cowardly band of eight attackers, their biggest concern isn’t for her safety and protection. No, no. They stand there beside their shaking traumatized friend and contemplate what this might mean for future invitations to frat parties for them if they actually take her to the hospital and report this attack to the authorities! Later in the story, after our victim has spent weeks isolating herself from everyone in her dorm, a girl is quoted offering this terrifying opinion, “You’re still upset about that? Why didn’t you just have fun with it…all those hot Phi Kappa Psi guys?”

Civilization, culture, polite society, are words we use to describe what we like to think is a more enlightened existence than our forbearers in less advanced times had to endure. In truth, these words serve as a thin veneer with which we paint over the ugliness of our hearts. We flatter ourselves by thinking that human beings have evolved beyond paganism. What I read in that article was essentially describing the lawless, hedonistic pursuit of pleasure fancied up in pearls.

There exists nowhere in the mind of any rational person an excuse for this type of behavior. If I hear one more dissertation about how the girl should have known what she was getting herself into, or those boys were just acting out what they see in pornography, I’m going to throw up. Oh, the poor, confused young things! Bullshit. No one in that dark room at the Phi Kappa Psi frat house was confused about anything. They knew exactly what they were doing and also that they would get away with it. Virginia’s finest.

People today roll their eyes whenever anyone starts talking about morality and virtue, as if these things no longer have a place in our newly liberated, values-free culture whose only surviving virtue seems to be tolerance. But perhaps it might be time to revisit centuries old virtues like honor and respect. Maybe it’s a mistake to cast the word judgmental on the scrap heap of history. I make no apologies for being judgmental. I have looked at the behavior of these frat boys and I am ready to declare my judgment that they are worthless pagans who should all be sentenced to life in prison for what used to be called “rape” in this country.

We need to stop kidding ourselves. Our advanced civilization…is neither advanced, nor civil.